


The Unintentional Lesson in Walburga Black's Potion Cabinet

by harleybarley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Comfort, Coming Out, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Remus Lupin, Gay Sirius Black, Getting Together, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleybarley/pseuds/harleybarley
Summary: Sirius and Remus have been dancing around their feelings for each other for months when Sirius suddenly goes silent and distant...“Are we still talking about potions?” Remus asked cautiously, knowing full well that they were not talking about potions, but desperately wanting to establish that fact for the both of them.“No,” said Sirius, turning to look at Remus with so many emotions on his face at once that it was almost comical.  In his eyes there was fear, pain, hope, honesty, and a heartbreaking touch of self-loathing.  In the set of his jaw there was bravado, there was nervousness in his lips, surprise in his eyebrows. Was that desperation he saw in Sirius’ face?  Did he dare to hope that he could see love? His breath hitched in his throat, he forced a swallow that was too dry for comfort and then sucked in a breath, his thoughts spinning.
Relationships: Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 146





	The Unintentional Lesson in Walburga Black's Potion Cabinet

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and the world belong to J.K. Rowling (despite her horrible comments, which I vehemently reject). 
> 
> Please please please leave feedback / comments / etc. :)

Remus Lupin was worried about Sirius Black. Probably more worried about him than he had ever been, which was really saying something given the other boy’s shitty family and frequently reckless antics at school. School had only been back in session for a week following the winter holidays, but Sirius, who had a personality that made it feel like he was everywhere all at once, had been uncharacteristically entirely on the periphery since returning to school. 

Sirius’ odd behavior had made the first week back pass excruciatingly slowly. It felt like the whole world was a quidditch match where all of the players and balls had been hit with slowing charms and were flying through peanut butter instead of air. The only thing that was moving at full speed was his heart, which was aggressively pumping anger, fear, and anxiety through his veins. Even though time was moving impossibly slowly, the seed of worry that had been planted when Sirius refused to meet his eye the first dinner back had somehow had plenty of time to sprout into a miniature whomping willow that was incessantly wreaking havoc on his insides. 

The whole situation was frustrating and stressful, and Remus felt increasingly like screaming. At this point, all that was left to be determined is who or what his screams would be directed at, as their future existence was somewhat of an inevitability unless something changed soon. The smart money was on Sirius. 

So far, fifth-year had undeniably been a bit strange for Remus and Sirius. In hindsight, it was easy to see that there had been an escalating pattern of awkward yet thrilling interactions between them in the months leading up to the winter break. It really wasn’t anything too extreme, a soft but lingering touch on the elbow, a gentle squeeze of interlaced fingers after the full moon, and heads resting on shoulders during long nights in the common room. Just little things like that. 

The studious part of Remus thought that he should refocus his attention on being disappointed in himself, like usual. It seemed like simply focusing on his studies was entirely out of the question for him at the moment, but perhaps, if enough disappointment and self-loathing accumulated, he would be able to force himself to concentrate. He should be thinking about his upcoming O.W.L.’s but all he could think about was how things felt weird with Sirius. Not a bad weird necessarily, just … weird. Ok - maayybe - it was a good weird? He really couldn’t be sure. It was the type of weird that made his heart beat faster and his palms get all sweaty. But it was also the type of weird that made his chest feel lighter than air and sent pleasant shivers up his limbs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Remus had been tentatively leaning towards categorizing this weirdness as a good weird, but then Sirius had started acting strange, which brought him back to square one in his deliberations as to the nature of their new weirdness. All in all, Remus spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about the situation with Sirius. And then, when he really got himself going, he spent an even more embarrassing amount of time thinking about how much time he spent thinking about the situation with Sirius. It was, frankly, a damn near impossible cycle to break.

Remus and Sirius’ little moments somehow were absolutely everything when Remus looked back at the first half of their fifth-year at Hogwarts. Even though he objectively knew that these little moments had been broken up with all together too much time between them, somehow they were all that mattered. What had even happened in the stretches of time between the weird? He honestly wasn’t even sure he could remember - but it was fine, nothing to worry about, sure, maybe Remus didn’t remember what they had learned in Potions, but he definitely remembered the feeling of Sirius’ hand in his and the sensation of Sirius’ thumb tracing a soft circle over his pulse point. 

The dual nature of the “thumb on his pulse moment” (as it had come to be known in his mind and his mind alone) was something Remus had become oddly fixated on in the time since it had happened. Sirius’ touch was undoubtedly intended to be soothing and relaxing, this much he could be sure of contextually. But Remus' body, while exhausted from his night as the wolf, had had the exact opposite reaction. His heart had sprung to life, his pulse accelerating dramatically, like it was trying to outrun the Hogwarts Express. 

In the moment, nothing else had mattered but Sirius’ thumb on his wrist, but in hindsight, Remus wondered if Sirius had been able to feel his heartbeat through his skin. Merlin, if Sirius had been able to feel his pulse fluttering wildly in his wrist, it would be nothing short of mortifying. 

Whenever he thought about the “thumb on the pulse moment,” Remus could still feel Sirius’ touch, almost like it was still happening in some dimension or alternate universe. This lingering familiarity that he had with the feeling was in no way because his subconscious had regularly recreated said moment in his dreams. That was something that had not been happening. Definitely, definitely not. 

If anything, Remus had just been dreaming of that particular post-full-moon morning because of how much pain he had been in, he told himself. That could explain why he awoke from these dreams with his heart pounding and his skin slick with sweat, right? It was the pain he was remembering and that was causing his body’s undeniable physiological response to these dreams. It didn’t mean anything - It just didn’t, power of positive thinking and all that.. 

Remus sighed internally. All things considered, it wasn’t fair to categorize his fixation on these moments as odd in any way. Whenever his weak internal protests faded into silence he was left with only the undeniable knowledge that he knew the exact reason why he was fixated on these moments. Even if he was doing everything he could to keep his brain from climbing aboard that particular train of thought. No, no, he was going to let that train leave the station empty and chug along until it was out of sight and into obscurity with all the other impossible ideas that he had. 

At this juncture in his conversation with himself, he usually would turn onto a path that morphed into a bitter argument with the sadistic and evil voice in his head. Remus attributed this particular voice in his head to his inner wolf, mainly because it’s tauntings always became more frequent and increasingly nasty as the full moon drew closer. This voice of the wolf was always with him, though sometimes it could be wrangled into prolonged periods of silence when things in life were good, and this voice was his absolute least favorite part of being a werewolf. 

When Remus had admitted this fact to his fellow marauders during one of their first intense rounds of questioning after learning his secret, they had been surprised that anything could overshadow the bone breaking and muscle tearing transformations that they had learned about in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus had just shrugged his shoulders at their surprise, not wanting to elaborate any further. Peter and James had accepted his shrug and launched back into their queue of questions, but Sirius had not been so easily distracted. Sirius had remained silent but had fixed his grey eyes on Remus’ own, trying to hold them. In a moment of panic Remus had quickly ripped his own away, not wanting Sirius to somehow see the wolf that lay in their depths. 

How could Remus explain to them that the reason the voice was his least favorite part of being a werewolf was because he couldn’t get away from it, even between the full moons? Because the voice was in his own mind, intricately and inseparably tangled with everything that made him him? Or rather, everything that would have made him him if he had never been bitten and if the fact that being a werewolf wasn’t always the first descriptor in line to describe Remus Lupin. 

The wolf voice in question loved to chime in whenever Remus started thinking about his dreams of the “thumb on the pulse moment”, the ones he definitely wasn’t having, remember? Try to keep up.

' _ Yeah, sure, because you’ve had so many dreams of post moon pain before, _ ' the voice of the wolf drawled in his head, sounding both bored and amused. 

' _ There is a first time for everything _ ,' Remus snapped back. 

' _ Oh and thinking of pain usually makes you wake up with a raging hard-on, does it..? Though I suppose masochism is in your nature...so such a development wouldn’t be altogether unsurprising _ ' it sneered. 

' _ I’m not a masochist _ ,' he protested. 

' _ Maybe not -  _ ' it allowed, ' _ but I certainly am, and I am here, I am you, so by extension... _ '. The wolf voice paused dramatically ' _ you know you want him, don’t you, even you aren't thick enough to not see it _ ,' It said savagely, ' _ and he’ll never love you, because of me, you know that, but you still love him _ '. 

' _ I do not, _ ' he spat back furiously. 

' _ I think thou doth protest too much, _ ' said the voice dismissively, the satisfaction that it had shaken the calm mask that Remus always so desperately clung to, evident in its tone.

Remus knew he couldn't win these arguments because fighting the wolf was always an exercise in futility, especially when he knew it was right. But if he couldn't win the argument by outsmarting the wolf, at least he could get the last word in.. ‘ _ Shut up, _ ’ he replied stubbornly. 

Everything was fine. It was fine; he had nothing to worry about. He and Sirius were just close, and friends had these types of problems, didn’t they? Unfortunately, the “thumb on his pulse moment” that he was still not thinking about had taken place the morning of the day that they learned how to brew cheering solutions in Potions class, so he couldn’t even take a shot at brewing some of that up to lift himself out of his mood. Not that self medicating with home-brewed potions would have been a good idea anyway, since his potions skills were limited at best. Such a self-medicating attempt would probably end up with him in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey staring down at him with that uncomfortable overly perceptive stare that she had. 

Then again, a theoretical sentence in the hospital wing had a few atypical perks at the present, namely some distance from an infuriating black haired roommate. Remus knew he wouldn’t have self-medicated either way though, because whenever he got too close to being drawn into some of friends more reckless plans, his mind would go to the face of his mother as it had looked during the discussion in which she had finally agreed that Remus could come to Hogwarts, a little desperate, but mostly scared. 

His mother’s face always tugged on invisible threads of obligation and gratitude, gratitude that he was even here in this magical place in the first place. Whenever he felt those tugs, he would inevitably shake his head at his friends, their resulting eye rolls and elbows to the side be damned. So all and all, the fact that Remus couldn’t brew a cheering solution was fine, he probably would never have actually brewed one anyway, and who needed memories of Potions class? That was what books were for; he could always look it up if he needed... Everything was fine.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself when his brain had grown frantic and worried while he was home for the holiday with far too few distractions to keep him occupied. Usually, Remus loved spending Christmas with his mother and father, but this year the excitement had been muted by the fact that Sirius had not written to him. Not even once. Neither had James (who had spent the holiday visiting distant family) or Peter (who was always forced to attend an endless stream of massive family gatherings on holidays). However, James and Peter's lack of writing was more of a secondary issue at the moment because their behavior had been entirely in character since returning to school. 

Needless to say, his friend's silence, and the fact that he had far too many thoughts swimming through his mind, had made it impossible for him to not appear like he was miserably stewing for the entirety of holiday break. By day two at home, Remus’ mum’s eyes had grown all squinty with worry, but he just did his best to avoid her gaze by tucking his nose in a book that was propped open on his lap. Sure, he couldn’t tell you what the book was about, but it was as good a shield as any. By day three at home, Remus’ mum had begun questioning him with an unsettling and unrelenting intensity. By day four, she had come to the conclusion by herself that Remus was having girl trouble at school, a conclusion he assumed she supported with Remus’ own poor control over his blushing response, since he had been steadfast in his shrugging off of all of her rounds of verbal questioning without providing any answers. 

Hope Lupin’s conclusion that Remus was having girl trouble, while admittedly a reasonable educated guess given his age and refusal to answer any of her questions, was nothing short of devastating. Devastating to such an extent that the feelings were accompanied by a painful lurch of his insides. His mum was so close to the truth but still so painfully far off. In his mind the distance between his chair by the fire and where she stood not three meters away was just as great as the distance across a broad river. The distance was too far to swim, there was no bridge in sight, and he couldn't think of any spell that would bring him and his mum together. Remus wished he could tell her, but he didn't have the right words. Any words that did happen to be in his mind were absolutely refusing to line themselves up in any semblance of a helpful order.

Remus wondered what Sirius’ holiday had been like. Not good seemed like a safe bet. Though Sirius’ stories of life at Grimmauld Place were few and far between, they effectively communicated the fact that nothing much good ever really happened there. Well that, and the fact that Sirius always seemed to return to school from Grimmauld place a bit paler and jumpier than he was usually. 

Sirius hadn’t said anything at all about this particular holiday break since being back at school. In fact, Sirius seemed to be hardly speaking to Remus at all, a development that Remus found to be both disturbing and infuriating. It was too damn quiet without Sirius' incessant chattering. To be fair, Sirius hadn’t seemed to have said much at all to anyone since returning to school. Well except James. Remus knew Sirius and James had been talking behind the privacy of a silently cast Muffliato charm at night, at least three times this week. 

Whenever Remus heard James pull back the curtain to Sirius’s bed and the faint but distinctive buzzing begin, he had stared up at the ceiling above his four poster bed and forced his breathing to stay steady. He tried to tell himself that it was the faint buzzing itself that was what annoyed him about the whole situation, he was trying to sleep, damn it! But in reality, the buzzing sound alone was nothing that would keep him from sleep, and when he was honest with himself, he knew it was really the fact that Sirius was talking to James and not him that was making him grit his teeth. But he supposed it was good that Sirius was talking to someone at least, even if he did wish that someone was him. 

Remus was certain that he had thought through everything, all the possible reasons, explanations, and implications of Sirius’s behavior at least one hundred times. From every possible angle and even from a few angles that were strictly impossible, yet still enjoyable to consider. Remus definitely couldn’t tell you what Professor Binns had been talking about in History of Magic for the last hour, but he was sure that he was not the only student for whom that was the case. At least Remus was conscious, something that could not be said for about half of their class. Remus couldn’t tell if Sirius was in the conscious half or unconscious half at the moment; the back of his head had not provided enough clues, not for lack of effort on Remus' part of course. Peter was definitely asleep though, his soft snores appearing to be somewhat more interesting to James than whatever Professor Binns was saying.

The end of their History of Magic lesson came abruptly with Professor Binns exiting swiftly through his chalkboard and Remus looking around sheepishly, trying to see if anyone had noticed how startled he looked. The seat in front of him was empty. Sirius was gone, when had that happened? Remus gathered his books and trudged back to the common room to stow his book bag before heading to dinner. He had just about had enough. 

He needed to get Sirius to talk to him, at this point possibly more than he needed anything else, logical priorities be damned he thought fiercely. But Sirius was not in the common room, and Sirius did not show up to dinner. Where in Merlin’s name was he? Despite the heaping plates of spectacular food, Remus found that he had no appetite to speak of. Enough was enough. He was going to find Sirius and he was going to force him to talk to him, whatever it took. 

When Remus finally tracked Sirius down he was sitting in the open window of the astronomy tower. His legs were casually swinging back and forth at the knee, hundreds of meters above the frosted grass below. A cool breeze swept through the window and carried Sirius’ distinctive scent to Remus’ sensitive nose. Shit, there went his pulse again.. but at least this time Sirius’s fingers were too far away to feel it.

“You missed dinner,” he said stupidly, as he walked over to join his friend in the windowsill. Ugh, ok, so he hadn't started the conversation with anything more than stating the obvious, but what should one say to a friend that they had had countless little moments with but that would no longer talk to you for some inexplicable reason anyway?

Startled, Sirius turned, briefly meeting Remus’s eyes before looking back into the darkness. “I wasn’t hungry,” he said quietly, “I’m just… thinking”. Remus sucked in a breath, Sirius’s demeanor was so unlike him, but even so, his friend was still impossibly perfect. Sirius had been so distant lately that Remus felt like he hadn’t seen him, at least not properly, in a lifetime. Merlin, how was Sirius even real? His shoulder length black hair was pulled into a sloppy bun at the top of his neck. A few stray strands hung around his face in the cool air. His eyes were darker than usual in the low light, a steely grey. 

In Remus’ opinion, Sirius’ eyes were absolutely unique to him. This conclusion was probably an unpopular one, given the fact that the Black family tree was absolutely littered with pairs of piercing grey eyes. However, despite the color similarity, the other pairs of eyes in the Black family lacked the obvious depth that could be found in Sirius’. 

At the present, the skin below those deep steely grey eyes was smudged with purple. He looked tired and defeated. Most abnormally, Sirius' face lacked its usual mischievous quality, the one that never failed to make Remus' heart skip a beat (Remus usually resorted to covering these Sirius induced cardiac disruptions with an eye roll that he thought was probably convincingly casual). Even so though, Sirius was still gut-wrenchingly beautiful. 

Sirius looking the way he did, being as clever as he was, and being as casually natural at everything he attempted as he was, almost made it seem like maybe there was something to his family’s pure-blood mania. Remus didn't want to put much stock in bloodlines (because that would leave him nowhere good) but Sirius was from the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, with bloodlines purer than, well - anyone, and Sirius was as damn near perfect as anyone could be.

Sirius being Sirius defied what Remus would have thought would be possible in a single person. It was no wonder half the girls in the school got flustered in his presence, constantly trying to get his attention by running their hands through their hair and talking in just a little bit too high of a pitch. It was bloody infuriating. Thankfully he didn’t need to bother denying the fact that he found girls flirting with Sirius to be infuriating, because he could chalk that up to simple jealousy. He was jealous they weren’t flirting with him of course, he was jealous of Sirius, and who wouldn’t be? That made sense, didn’t it? 

The sleeping wolf voice in his head stirred, readying itself to torment him and poke holes in his logic that already resembled a particularly hole-y slice of Swiss cheese - ' _ Bugger off _ ,' Remus silently snapped at it, wanting to cut if off before it could get started. He imagined the wolf in his mind rolling its eyes at his Swiss cheese logic, but mercifully it curled up this time and went back to sleep. 

“What are you thinking about?” Remus prompted to break the silence. Sirius did not respond and the silence between them stretched on so long that Remus started to wonder if he had actually spoken out loud. “Seems like you have been doing a lot of thinking lately,” he observed, “I am not going to say it’s out of character but…” he trailed off, smiling gently and nervously, defaulting to a weak attempt at humor in his uncertainty.

Sirius exhaled in an approximation of amusement, a crooked smile flickering across his face, a mere ghost of the humor that could so often be found in his expression. “I’m thinking about my mother’s potions, her - er - potions cabinet,” he offered before returning to silence like this somehow was a sufficient explanation.

Remus raised an eyebrow; he wasn’t sure what he expected Sirius to have been thinking about, but Walburga Black’s potions was definitely not it “Is that some sort of euphemism?” he asked.

“No,” Sirius said flatly as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his robes. 

Remus’s brain felt empty. Shit, why did he never know the right thing to say in moments like this. People always thought he was the brainy and clever one of their group, but clearly those people don't realize how little of value he had to say sometimes he thought bitterly. Should he give his friend a hug? He wanted to, but maybe that was just his own selfish desire to recreate their lost moments from the fall. 

“My darling mother had me reorganize her potions cabinet over the holiday, something about my behavior at the Black family Christmas feast not being fitting for an individual of my breeding,” he muttered, his voice adapting a snippy and condescending tone that his mother had clearly used when she had been reprimanding him. “She’s got all kinds of stuff in there, it took bloody forever, probably most of what she’s got isn't even legal, no labels, definitely homemade,” his voice trailed off with the breeze, “Walburga is a talented potioneer you know,” he added.

Huh? Remus still had absolutely no idea what to say, but the fact that Sirius had strung together more than ten words in a row was definitely some sort of progress. “Uh, that’s, good?” Remus tried “Maybe that is where you get your potions prowess from?”. The words appeared in his mind and he latched onto them because they were the only ones he had to add to the silence of the moment. As they slipped out of his lips he desperately wanted to reclaim them, realizing with a sinking feeling that they were not the right ones for this particular situation. 

Thankfully, unlike his usually explosive reactions to mentions of his family, this time Sirius just groaned. “I don’t take after her in any way,” he said flatly. Even though Sirius’ high cheekbones alone were in direct contradiction to his words, Remus just nodded since it seemed like Sirius was gathering his thoughts to continue. 

Sirius sighed, “It just made me think about potions a lot I guess. It took ages to arrange everything up to her insane standards, so there was plenty of quiet time to think, you know how I usually avoid that thinking business,” he smiled weakly, “It’s just...even when you brew the same potion, it never comes out exactly the same way twice. Every batch is different…. And if you make them at home and they have no labels, really they could be anything... they could do anything, no matter the label”.

They were talking about potions? After everything that had been going on? Remus tried again, “I guess that’s true… well I hope you didn’t - er - sample anything too crazy?” Sirius ignored his question and bit his lip into his mouth, like he was trying to keep it shut so that his words stayed in. With a frustrated groan he released his lip from his teeth and spit it out in silent frustration “and then on top of that… different potions don’t always work the same on different people. Like everyone always swears by headache potion but for me.. well it only seems to make my headaches worse, I guess I’m just defective…”

Had Sirius said he is ‘defective’? How could he possibly think that? Remus fought back his instinct to fight Sirius on this point in favor of letting him continue with what was probably his record for number of words in a row in this new year.

“But people always try to tell you what should make you happy, how you should live your life, they expect certain things of you based on what you look like and what they think they know about you and they don’t seem to care if those things are actually true.” 

“Uh, well, that’s - uhh - interesting I suppose… but also I don’t see why that really matters? What the potion was supposed to do I mean, so long as you have something that works for you? Do you uhh - do you know what works for you?”

Sirius turned and gave him a long, hard look that carried far more meaning than made sense on the surface of the moment. Remus felt his heart flutter nervously in his chest at the intensity in Sirius' eyes. “Yes” Sirius said after a long pause, “I finally think I do.” He wrenched his eyes away from Remus' brown ones and tipped his head down, pulling his hands out of his robes to crack his knuckles, glaring at them through the stray strands of his hair like they had done something extremely offensive. 

It didn’t really seem like they were talking about potions after all.

“You can change labels on potions too, they are just on the outside of the bottle, and some bottles don’t even have them anyway, so they could be anything … which is nice,” Sirius mused. “Also I don’t suppose I have to have headache potion just because it’s what I am supposed to have. It doesn’t work for me, I’ve tried, I know it doesn’t work, it’s not right for me. Sleeping potion though, well that helps my headaches, so maybe I should really call it a headache potion even though it isn’t, because that’s what it is to me?” as he finished his words the pitch drifted up with uncertainty, almost like it was a question, and oh how desperately Remus wanted to have the right answer. 

“Why does the label matter?”

“I don’t think it really matters to me” Sirius said slowly, almost like he was taking the time to taste the words on his tongue as they came out, "I just want to be happy", he sighed again, his eyes flickering meaningfully to Remus' face, the focus of them slipping down to somewhere below Remus' nose before licking his lips quickly, leaving them shiny and reflective in the dark, “and I feel like it shouldn’t matter at all to anyone else... but it does”, he said “I guess it just always has..”

They most definitely were not talking about potions anymore. 

“Yeah, that’s true” Remus allowed, chewing the inside of his cheek as he chose his words carefully, he absolutely could not mess this up, “But maybe it shouldn’t,” he added, “maybe the bottle and the label are just products of society, social constructs, you know? Maybe the world needs to change.” Remus drew in a deep breath and held it, fighting the urge to scrutinize his friend's face for clues as to how his words were being received. 

"You read too much, Moony," Sirius said. Remus didn't turn to look at him but he could hear a small smile in his friends voice. Sirius took a deep, unsteady breath, “I guess I just always thought that I would grow up and my life would be a specific way.. you take headache potions when you have headaches, and you are happy, that’s how it is supposed to work”. 

Remus let his air out slowly and silently, that was fair, maybe it wasn’t a resounding acceptance of his words but he still understood. Sirius was drumming the fingers of his right hand on his thigh nervously, hesitantly Remus reached out and took his hand, waiting a second to give Sirius time to pull it away if he wanted to - one one thousand he counted silently - Sirius’s hand was still in his own so he gave it an encouraging squeeze. When Sirius returned the squeeze his heart skipped a beat entirely. 

“Mother says 'one should always follow the labels on bottles, do what is expected of them… it is their duty', and Regulus" Sirius sighed “Regulus says 'it’s disgusting and shameful to use a potion for anything other than for what it was intended', that 'it should be against the law', and that I’m 'kidding if I say headache potion doesn’t work for me, headache potion works - for everyone'” once again Sirius slipped into the tones that had been used when the words had initially been delivered to him, it was spitting and cold. Hostile. 

Sirius' words drew goosebumps down Remus' arms and up his neck that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature. His heart ached. More than anything, he wanted to tell Sirius ‘Fuck Regulus’, ‘Regulus doesn’t matter’, or ‘Regulus is a stupid bigot.’ But he also knew that was a childish answer and that beneath the layers of hate and hurt Sirius loved Regulus and cared what he thought, that he maybe always would to some degree, even if it tore him apart. More than anything Remus wanted to find the words to hold him together. Sirius deserved so much better. 

“I guess I would argue that it doesn’t matter what people expect it to be, it just matters what it does, for you, that is the true essence of what it ‘is’ ”.

“I know you’re right… logically” Sirius sighed, “but I also know that people will always look at that bottle and read the label they see and think what they think about what it should do, Regulus will always feel the way he feels, and …” he trailed off.

“Are we still talking about potions?” Remus asked cautiously, knowing they weren’t, but desperately wanting to establish that fact for the both of them.

“No,” said Sirius, turning to look at Remus with so many emotions on his face at once that it was almost comical. In his eyes there was fear, pain, hope, honesty, and a heartbreaking touch of self-loathing. In the set of his jaw there was bravado, there was nervousness in his lips, surprise in his eyebrows. Was that desperation he saw in Sirius’ face? Did he dare to hope that he could see love? His breath hitched in his throat, he forced a swallow that was too dry for comfort and then sucked in a breath, his thoughts spinning.

He met and held Sirius’ beautiful grey eyes, letting them pull him in. And then in a blink of an eye they were kissing and Sirius’ lips were firmly but delicately pressed to his own. Remus definitely didn’t remember making a conscious decision to kiss Sirius, but here they were, the decision was done. Somehow the moment felt exactly like a fill-in-the-blank question, there was only one right answer, and he had definitely gotten it right.

Remus slid along the window sill until his side was pressed against Sirius while Sirius snaked his arm around Remus’s shoulders and up into his hair, tugging so that a tremor of pleasure shot down his spine and he moaned deep in his chest. Holy shit. Did he really just make that sound? 

Nothing was supposed to feel this good, this right. Remus pressed Sirius up against the edge of their window sill, holding him still with his shoulder as Sirius brought one of his hands down from Remus' hair to gently caress his cheek with his thumb. His nerve endings were left on fire in the wake of every touch. Sirius paused and pulled his face back a couple inches to study Remus’ face, checking on him. Sirius' eyes were a wet and sparkling silver, surprised, and so deep that it didn’t seem like there was an end to them. He blinked slowly, almost as if he thought his eyes would open to an entirely different sight than they had closed too. When they opened again and he took in Remus’ face, still only an inch from his own, his eyes widened. It was like he was seeing Remus properly for the first time, despite having seen him nearly every day for the past four and a half years. 

Sirius' pale skin was a few shades darker than usual, colored with lust. Merlin, Sirius was so fucking hot. The voice of the wolf in Remus’ brain wickedly asked him what the fuck this beautiful boy was doing with someone like him, this was a prank, a joke, a dream. Various twisted explanations of the present situation echoed in his mind. What was Sirius doing with him? He was out of his league. He was out of everyone at Hogwarts league really. Frankly, there probably weren’t enough people like Sirius to make up an entire league. It was just him. What did Remus’ own face look like right now anyway? There was no world in which he even looked like the same species as Sirius fucking Black.

‘ _ Well you aren’t even the same species, not really,’ _ the wolf voice drawled darkly. 

Oh it's going to hurt to wake up from this particular dream Remus, he thought at himself desperately, while bringing his lips to Sirius’ neck, breathing in his scent before peppering the soft skin there with rapid-fire kisses. Even if it was just a dream, he was going to enjoy every moment of this ecstasy. He was going to pour the past six months of confusing, wonderful, overwhelming, and stressful emotions into this one moment.

Sirius groaned deeply. “Fuck Moony,” he gasped, his breath coming in shallowly, “You.. you are so unbelievable, this can’t be real”. Sirius' voice was absolutely filthy with lust, Remus could literally feel his blood rush through his veins to his crotch. 

Well.. that was odd, ‘this can’t be real’ was something he should be thinking, definitely not something that dream Sirius would be thinking. And somehow this felt more real than his dreams ever did, it was something to do with the extreme temperatures in the moment, the cold of the air on his exposed skin and the heat of the boy pressed up against him, his lips smoldering his skin. Fire and ice. There was never this much temperature in his dreams. Remus dropped his hand to his own thigh and gave it a hard and painful pinch. Merlin.. this just might be real. 

Tentatively Remus slipped his hands inside Sirius’s robes and slid them up the perfectly smooth warm skin of Sirius’s lower back. Beneath his fingers he felt Sirius' muscles ripple deliciously. At the feeling of his own rippling muscles, Sirius tipped his head back, exposing more of his neck to Remus' skilled lips. Remus explored the newly exposed skin dutifully, relishing in the unevenness of the other boys breaths. Sirius' fingers were now playing gently and teasingly with the waistband of Remus' trousers at the small of his back. It was both ticklish and tantalizing, and he found himself pushing his lower back into Sirius' hand to get more pressure behind the touch.

Remus found an especially sensitive spot on the side of Sirius' jaw that drew an expressive full body shudder, easily the hottest sight that Remus had ever seen. Remus laughed silently into Sirius' skin, the smile on his lips tickling Sirius' skin before he started nipping gently at the spot before fixing his lips over it and sucking hard. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck", Sirius gasped and pulled Remus' face to his own, sucking urgently at Remus’s lower lip. Remus parted his lips into Sirius so that he could slide their tongues against each other. He needed to breathe but he didn’t want to. 

Sirius' hands were now in Remus’s hair and were insistently tugging him closer. Merlin Sirius' hands were everywhere but still somehow not everywhere he wanted them to be. It was fiery and passionate and unlike absolutely any kiss he had experienced before. In the past, kissing had felt fine, like something to do, not unpleasant, but not especially pleasant if he was being honest. This was something entirely different. Shit, if he had known it could be like this.. Remus swiped his tongue along the outline of Sirius’s lower lip eagerly before gently closing his teeth and tugging, eliciting a whimper from the other boy, a sound so pleasing that Remus immediately committed it to his memory. 

There was a tingling lightness in his chest that he had never felt before, what was that feeling?! His hand had made its way from his own skinny thigh to Sirius’ lean but muscled one. The heat from Sirius’ leg seeped through his robes and began to warm Remus’ palm. He couldn’t think. He couldn't breathe. 

All of the sudden there was entirely too little air in Remus’s lungs and he pulled back abruptly, teetering dangerously on the window sill. The tiny part of his brain that had retained the ability to process logical thoughts told him he should be worried about the fact that he had nearly fallen from the astronomy tower window, but the rest of him was far too busy being disappointed that their kiss had ended. What was wrong with him.

“Fuck, Moony be careful”, Sirius panted, grabbing Remus and tugging him back towards him, wrapping his arms around his middle. Remus closed his eyes and dropped his forehead onto Sirius’s shoulder, taking in short, shallow breaths as he tried to steady himself. “Merlin” he gasped “That was…”

“Yeah…”

“I… uh… well maybe it goes without saying, but I don’t think I can say - er - headache potions are for me either at this point…” Remus choked out between gasps. 

“Well thank Merlin for that,” Sirius snorted and then smirked smugly.

Sirius tilted his head and let it rest on the familiar spot on Remus’s shoulder, just like he had countless times before, though this time was completely different. Slowly their heart rates returned to normal, and they descended into silence, watching the light of the waning moon dance across the surface of the black lake. 

Remus leaned into Sirius’ side, still watching the light on the lake but mentally wrangling the words in his head into order. The words in his mind were being a lot more cooperative than they had been lately, but he still really wanted to get them exactly right, “Well then, maybe this goes without saying,” he said “but I don’t care what it was supposed to be,” he said, using air quotes around the final three words like a sassy first year. He was relieved to hear his words coming out with more strength than he thought he would have been able to manage in that particular moment. “I also don’t think I care what other people would call it or what other people think I’m supposed to do. I just care how something makes me feel. It’s the potion, not the bottle, not the label. That’s what I care about.” 

Sirius appeared to be considering his words silently, giving Remus time to find himself shocked at just how true what he had said was. They were his words, they shouldn’t be surprising, but the important thing was that they were true, possibly as true as anything else had ever been. 

“And you know what,” Remus said, slightly louder this time as his confidence grew, “we only get one life, that is it, this is it, and I don’t ever want to get to a point where I look back and wonder what life could have been like if I had only been braver.. brave enough to just be me. Me who I am, not who people think I should be, we are Gryffindor’s for fucks sake!”

Sirius smiled and laughed, like he always did when Remus got fired up enough about something to swear, it didn’t happen often. Well, at least not out loud it didn't. Finally, a real smile Remus thought with relief, his heart soaring at the way the other boys grey eyes were twinkling, just as vibrantly as the star he was named after, not that that embarrassing excuse for a comparison was something he was going to share with Sirius anytime soon. But oh how Remus had missed that smile.

“You may have a point,” Sirius said “because I don’t think anything,” he gestured vaguely at the air between their faces, “has ever ‘cleared up a - er - headache so spectacularly,” he said with a small smirk, sarcastically using air quotes of his own to make fun of the weak potions reference. "... and there is your euphemism for the evening," he added with a devilish wink.

Remus laughed lightly, “Euphemism or not, you can say that again,” Remus said, relief creeping into his tone, a blush coloring his cheeks, even in the darkness.

There was a long pause as they sat side by side. Sirius’s thumb had made its way back to Remus’s wrist which lay on Sirius’s thigh. There was no way that Sirius couldn’t feel his pulse this time, but now Remus didn’t care.

“Well then, even though we have determined that the label shouldn’t matter - doesn’t matter," he corrected himself quickly, "Can I ask what it says? What do you call yourself?” Sirius asked into the silence

“I think, I think - I'll just call myself Remus,” he replied simply, "at least for now."

“Remus,” Sirius said, with a small nod of his head, “I like it”.

“I should hope so,” Remus teased lightly.

“Remus?” Sirius repeated, more nervously this time, “I - I don’t know that I am ready for people to … people to - know just yet,” he said, studying Remus’ hand in his own, “Not because of you,” he added in a rush, bringing his eyes up to Remus’, “Because of me, I know that I’ve finally got this right, but I think I just need time to get used to the idea that my life is not going to be what I always thought it was going to be… even though it’s ok, more than ok even, I just think it will take some getting used to”.

“Well, you don’t have to tell anyone anything that you don’t want to,” Remus said firmly, internally relieved that Sirius didn’t feel like shouting anything from any rooftops just yet, since he himself hadn’t been able to get any words together to talk to his own mother. Though sitting here now, with Sirius at his side, he saw that future conversation with a little more clarity, and with a little less fear. 

Sirius’ fingers would be threaded through his own supportively and they would sit down across from his parents together. His vision of that future conversation faded and he gently nudged Sirius' side with his elbow, “Though I must say I am glad you told me all this, Padfoot,” Remus added with a quirk of his lips and a sweeping gesture of his arms, “I was preparing to have to strangle you if you didn’t start talking to me soon,” he admitted.

“I don't know what you are talking about, I was just talking about some boring old potions,” Sirius said in a tone that was probably intended to sound innocent but that got nowhere close to truly sounding innocent.

Remus rolled his eyes "Mhmm, whatever you say, Padfoot".

“Oh and… uh… Prongs knows,” Sirius said, apologetically this time. Remus’ eyes widened in surprise as he remembered the nights he lay in bed, gritting his teeth at the buzz of the Muffliato charm, so this is what they had been talking about within their cone of silence...oh if only he had been a fly on the wall for those conversations...

“I see,” he said, “Er.. what does Prongs.. uh.. think?” he asked, turning to look at Sirius. Sirius looked horrified and so apologetic that Remus wondered what emotions had flitted across his own face as he had considered the development that Prongs knew.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into anything or say anything about you…”, Sirius said, earnest remorse evident in his tone, “I was just talking about me because he asked about the holidays at home and he.. er.. sort of pieced it all together”.

“No, no, it’s alright, I just was er..putting some pieces together myself, I guess this is what you were discussing behind Muffliato all week.." Sirius nodded, "Did Prongs have any er - words of wisdom?” 

Sirius plastered a humorous faux-skeptical expression onto his features. “Wisdom? Prongs? Never.” he said with a teasing laugh. “Actually though, this time I suppose he really did have it all straight,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “Prongs said he doesn’t think it should matter, that some people will only ever care about the bottle and the label, that those people will never care about the uh - potion - and if that is the case then they don’t deserve it. That the uh - potion - should do whatever will make it happy.” 

Remus nodded, “That makes sense, er - any chance he really thought you were talking about potions?” he asked nervously but with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Definitely not,” Sirius said with a smirk, his tongue swiping across his lips. Holy shit, is that indecent, Remus thought, staring unsubtly at his friends shiny lips. That tongue was just in my mouth he thought slowly, feeling his cheeks heat and an almost painful throb between his legs. He desperately hoped that Sirius had drawn Remus's own involuntary biological reaction accidentally and somehow not noticed his flushing cheeks, but the look on Sirius’ face and the fact that he was now chewing on his own lower lip, his eyes dancing wickedly, made this seem extremely unlikely. Remus shook his head slowly in his astonishment at all the Sirius was and could do to him, with so little effort.

“I didn’t think you’d go for it. For me, I mean.” Sirius added to his earlier words, “but Prongs wasn’t so sure, he thought maybe you did feel the same way I did”. 

Remus laughed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows with his fingers in embarrassment, “I guess I am not as subtle as I thought, am I?”

“Subtle enough for me,” Sirius said with an eye roll, “but yeah, Prongs has always had a way of cutting through the dragon dung,” he added with a chuckle and disbelieving shake of his head.

“If only that ability was able to help him more on his epic one-man journey to Evans’ heart,” Remus replied. They both laughed and the moment faded back into silence. Remus thought about what this development would mean. How was this going to change things? What would his own family think? He didn’t think they would react like the Blacks clearly had, but how would they react? Would this just be another thing his father was ashamed of him for?

“It’s going to be harder this way,” Sirius said out of the blue, clearly venturing down a chain of thought similar in theme to the one Remus had been following, “I think it is wrong that it’s harder this way.. but it still is.”

“Yeah, I know,” Remus replied, “but it’s going to be worth it, you are worth it,” he playfully pushed Sirius’s shoulder, a habit he had developed for anytime he complimented Sirius, a conscious attempt to prevent any deeper emotions behind his words from spilling out, “Don’t let it go to your head -” he started, but his words were cut off as Sirius brought their lips back together gently and Remus immediately melted into him, tracing his fingers down the goose-bumpy surface of Sirius’ exposed forearm to thread his fingers through Sirius’. Sirius licked into his mouth, letting their tongues mingle tantalizingly, kissing him slowly and deeply. This kiss was completely different from their last, but somehow equally as perfect, as right. He was so close, Remus knew, but he still wanted him closer.

When they broke the kiss Sirius was smiling happily. “What?” Remus asked. 

“Uhh, I do hate to say it.. Merlin knows his ego does not need this...But I think we should probably tell Prongs he may have been right after all.” 

Remus laughed, “May have?!” he asked incredulously, his eyes dancing in his amusement. He swung his legs over the window sill and into the astronomy tower, tugging Sirius back inside along with him. “Prongs can be right, just this once,” he allowed.

Together they set off towards Gryffindor tower in the dark, fingers brushing fingers, eyes catching eyes, and laughter occasionally breaking through their stupid smiles as they half-heartedly shushed each other. If his real life could be like this, even better than his dreams, Remus was certain that he would never even need to look up how to brew himself a cheering solution after all. 


End file.
